My Best Enemy
by Respice finem excors
Summary: Two enemies locked together by chance. An adventure that tests their long-held beliefs, and sets them on a path to uniting forces greater than themselves. Can these two headstrong enemies learn to work together and survive, or will they fall to beings who want them dead? [eventual SxB/Spuffy] (Takes references from Season 4, and the comic Spike:Asylum. Goes off canon immediately.)
1. Arc 1 Chapter 1

My Best Enemy

Chapter 1

"I never thought I would associate with demons, except at the other end of a weapon." Buffy let out a wry chuckle as she shifted in her seat to get more comfortable. She slouched back in the deep padding of the couch, kicking her feet up onto the low coffee table, and resting one hand over her midsection, the other kept the mug near her face. Her hot tea steam warming her face from the brisk late-winter weather seeping indoors.

She continued, "It all started that night I disappeared and ran into my best enemy. I should have realized four years into slaying there are always worst things…"

* * *

Lightly panting, Buffy wafted the dust of her latest vampire away from her face after their short chase, followed by an even more short fight. She stood disappointed a moment on the UC Sunnydale campus. She looked to the starry sky and made a request to the universe for the bad guys to try and step up their game. The biggest challenge this one gave her was a good run.

Well, she really was leading the idiot vamp to a more secluded spot to slay. Vampires lately have been a few French fries short of a Happy Meal…

"Slayer!"

Speaking of vampires and their Happy Meals…

Buffy turned around to see Spike leap from the low first-story roof of the campus building to the courtyard. He landed effortlessly like a cat on two legs, and prowled forward much like one too. They began circling each other.

"Vampire." Buffy mocked back. She double checked to make sure no one was within viewing distance.

Spike paused and tilted his head, "come now, we've known each other longer than that to refer to each other by what we are."

"Oh please, I've never heard you call me by my name. Besides, first name basis should be between those that respect each other." Buffy continued their defensive circling, waiting for him to break first and rush in.

"I respect you Slayer." Buffy scoffed at his affronted look. "Your fighting is the best I've had in a long while. You're still alive too."

"Exactly. You respect the Slayer warrior. Not me, Buffy Summers."

"Well, _duh_." Spike rolled his eyes. Then without further comment he leaped forward with a punch.

Buffy ducked back and continued dodging his multiple swinging punches, her retreating steps keeping him at just enough distance until suddenly his foot planted into her stomach sending her flying back. She rolled several times before stopping on her hands and knees.

Okay, that had hurt.

Before he brought a foot into her ribs, she rolled away several times again, then jumped up to stand against another incoming punch, which she just barely blocked with her forearm. While he was focused with her block, she dropped and swept her leg around and into his kneecap, collapsing him, and gaining the advantage he had since they began.

Spike rolled away from her downward stab with her stake and continued out of her line of attack by jumping and skipping backwards. Pursuing his retreat, Buffy had the advantage now. She wailed on him with multiple flying kicks only seen in kung-Fu movies, though it was something she could do just as well. Spike could barely keep the kicks from landing in his face as he was backing up. He managed to grab one foot and throw her to the side. She twisted with the throw and managed a cartwheel at the same time.

Now in equal fighting stances, they circled each other once again, both panting. Though he looked to be panting from excitement. They leaped towards each other at the same time.

She blocked a punch with her forearm. "Always a pain in the ass Spike."

He parried by sweeping her stabbing arm away. "You're short and full of yourself Slayer."

They traded blows and barbed quips in an intense, but short fight. Right up until Buffy made the mistake of glancing off to the side as she tried a punch. She ended up coming in too fast without a defense ready, and Spike took the opening.

He grabbed her incoming wrist, swinging around to her unprotected back, he looped his other arm around her torso and trapping her staking arm against it. Momentarily stuck, Buffy attempted wriggling out as Spike couldn't help but gloat. She tried head-butting back into his nose, but he jerked his face from the stun blow. Stomping on his feet wasn't working either.

The fight was quicker than Buffy ever had with Spike, and she wondered briefly if she might have jinxed herself from her earlier request. She felt his cool exhale brush across her neck. She tried wriggling again to no avail.

Spike chuckled, "_Ohh_, that felt good. Keep doing that Slayer." He squeezed around her a little tighter.

Not wanting to get bit, but also not wanting to encourage his piggish behavior, she tried head-butting him again and kicking one heel down where his foot should be. She missed both shots.

She looked up at an approaching figure that Spike seemed to not have noticed, sensing she was about to be saved.

Spike bit hard in into the vein of her neck. Buffy let out a strangled shout that came out more of a gurgle. He tightened his hold on her body while clamping down on her neck. She began feeling him take the first few pulls of blood and felt her heart beating hard in her chest.

She wasn't ready to die.

Then suddenly they both tightened in full-body spasms. The clenching pain holding them both stopped seconds later, and through the aftershocks Buffy watched as four pairs of armored boots surrounded them.

They both had collapsed, and she belatedly realized she had been _electroshocked_.

Spike had released his hold on her when they dropped, but her neck was still leaking. The tasing and blood loss was making her vision spotty, and from her prone position she saw further in the shadowed distance three more figures hiding behind trees. All three wore ski masks and matching outfits of military camouflage. With a signal from one, they silently retreated into the night without alerting the four armored attackers.

She watched as multiple hands reached down to pick up both of them, and then she faded into unconsciousness.

* * *

Spike woke to someone jerking him upright. He blearily looked around and saw he was inside a narrow, bare-metal interior. At the end of his outstretched and limp feet, he saw the Slayer still unconscious. Her neck had a white gauze pad pressed to her neck by one of three fully armored men. With his heightened senses, Spike could tell they were a mix of half-demons. Their armor looked like a modern and streamlined form of ancient Japanese samurai, without the frills. All plaited and folded leather with steel. They were covered head-to-toe-to-fingers in it, so biting was out.

The one who pulled him from unconsciousness was holding him at the shoulders as another sitting next to him was holding something small and squirming. It looked like a green, slug-like shrimp. The man was placing it a little too close to his head for comfort.

Spike tested his arms and felt them bound with metal braces as long as his forearm. The design kept him from twisting out like standard handcuffs, and no matter how flexible he is, he wouldn't be able to thread his legs through to bring them to his front. He still felt weakened from the tasing, so fighting cuffed wasn't going to work either. He looked up again as he sensed the fully armored half-demon with the suspicious thing come closer.

"Hey! What're you gonna do with that?" Spike leaned back from his reach and the wriggling shrimp-bug. "Who are you blokes? I'll bite you through that armor, don't go thinking I can't." He supposed threatening them while his arms were tied securely behind his back was not going to help him at all, but he gets mouthy when feeling threatened.

The man holding his shoulders used one hand to secure his head against his metal chest plate and keep him still. Now Spike was getting very worried as the shrimp bug was placed at his ear. Without hesitation, the thing crawled into his ear canal and its buggy claws pinched in very tender spots.

Very, _very_ tender spots.

The pain brought a screech of surprise from Spike. He thrashed in the hold for a moment before the hands released him. He scrubbed his ear onto his shoulder and felt wetness smearing around the area. Damn thing was likely to cause permanent damage. Before, he was just upset, now he was _bloody mad_. Moments later, Spike felt the thing settle down and stop scraping somewhere in his noggin.

"What the _bloody hell_ do you want?" Spike spat out as he watched the man who put the thing in his ear do the same to the Slayer while unconscious. Which he felt was unfair. She barely twitched.

"Your questions will be answered when we arrive." One of the armored men said, his voice sounded muffled and metallic through the full-faced helmet.

Minutes later Spike felt what he figured to be their transport truck slow down and stop on some bumpy road.

Picking both him and the Slayer up, the men marched them out the back container door. The movement stirred the Slayer into consciousness, though she looked disoriented. She was being carried by two on each side, the tops of her feet dragging across the dirt ground. A trickle of blood ran down from her ear and into her neck bandage.

Spike used this chance to study his surroundings. It was night, though almost dawn, which Spike had worried about. He remembered fighting the slayer in the early hours of night, so they must have been traveling for at least seven or eight hours, if it was the same day. The small storage truck that transported them was unmarked, so no help there. Surrounding them for fifty or so yards in every direction was flattened dirt yard and high cement wall topped with looped barbed wire. The direction their captors were taking them was a large and tall un-adorned building.

But that wasn't the disturbing part.

The really unnerving thing to Spike was the fact that he saw strategically placed grass, reflection pools off to the side, and minor floral bushes decorating sporadically around the high walls.

But all he smelled was dirt, dirt, and more dirt. With the occasional waft of something more rank coming from the building ahead when the hot, dusty wind blew just right.

Those few decorating plants and pools weren't really there.

So, this place was displaying a pretty illusion. Why? He didn't know. He got the distinct impression this place was a prison with two facades. One for guests, and one for supposedly beings like him and the Slayer. Though he suspected they brought her just out of caution. Certainly not out of altruism due to her injury, because this was a very shady operation.

Their armored captors marched them through the large double-door entrance. Inside opened up into a multiple-storied atrium of questionable cleanliness and disrepair. Each level was only separated from the drop by a seemingly rickety metal railing. The walkways on each level had a few steel doors with a small glass window.

While the outside was covered in an illusion, inside was not.

Distantly, Spike heard a sound repeating itself over and over again. A very familiar word, and repeating like a chanting call. It was dozens of voices chanting _his name_. Occasionally he could pick out '_Slayer_' being chanted too.

So they were being expected. Not good, considering the surroundings. The place was drenched in the smell of numerous demons, most he couldn't identify. There was an electric charge of ozone scent lightly interspersed, possibly from the magic coating this place.

Their four armored escorts stopped them before the entrance to the building's inner sanctum. Standing there waiting were four individuals. Two were matching armored men, and they stood at attention behind two people, a man and a woman in long white doctor coats. What also caught Spikes attention was on the wall behind those four of an inscribed Latin phrase in stone: DURUS AMOR EST TAMEN AMOREM.

Spike snorted in amusement at that, '_Tough love is still love_'. Really, _what is this place?_

The woman in the coat carrying a clipboard addressed Spike in a short businesslike tone, "Welcome to Mosaic. The facility for rehabilitation of demons and metahumans." She looked down at her clipboard for a moment. She had a lovely figure and long, dark curling hair. Certainly her neck looked inviting too.

"And what's your name dollface?" He tried coming off as charming, but his being captured left it sounding acerbic.

The woman gave him a flat look then turned to the two suited guards holding the Slayer up, "Send her to the infirmary for cleanup and observation. And _remember_ to tie her down." The men left dragging the barely conscious Slayer through the inner doors. The woman turned to the other white coat doctor, "Dr. Ray, Please send this vampire to his holding cell until Mah-Zinn is ready for him."

The blond man nodded, "Of course, Head Mistress"

"Hey now! Who _are_ you people? _What_ is going on? I have rights, you know!" Spike dug his heels in, struggling against the two guardsmen grip on his arms. His strength was more than they could handle, but before he could make a run for the exit, the extra two guardsmen at the door jumped his back and slammed him to the ground. When he was picked up and surrounded again he noticed the woman gone, and Dr. Ray waiting patiently, like he expected the freak-out to happen. Spike felt his nose bleeding from the floor impact, and he licked what he could reach.

The obvious disadvantage took the remaining fight out of him, and he let the four guards march him through the doors beyond. They all followed the human, Dr. Ray, without question.

The inner doors opened into a long, bare corridor with metal doors intermittently placed. As they passed each doorway, Spike could see through the few cracked open that they were offices of varying uses.

They approached another set of double doors at the opposite end. The other side was another matching corridor that turned immediately right. On the left was a wide door with a sign labeling it 'Infirmary'. Spike could smell the Slayer had been dragged inside. His guards marched him right, and Spike could see the beginnings of the holding cells. He recognized the smell that was drifting outside when he arrived was from here - the holding cells of all the demons caged. He crinkled his nose in disgust, but otherwise kept to himself.

Also, the chanting of his name was definitely emanating from here. The sounds were mixed in with some demonic shrieks and bellows. He couldn't tell if they were celebrating his arrival or condemning it.

Demons of every shape, size, color, species and gender (or non-gender) were caged two per cell - size permitting. There was no order of their placement to Spike's reasoning.

As he passed one barred cell, a tentacle snaked out and barely wrapped around his bicep, but the suckers on one side kept a good grip on his arm. The creature spoke a hissing gurgle of barely-discernable English with its vowels and consonants pitched all wrong, "Sssp_ii_ke. You arr_re_ _her_eeee. You will paa_ay_."

_"Get off me!"_ He tried pulling away with no luck.

The guard being blocked by the tentacle took out a stun gun and lit up the limb. It let out a pained shriek and flinched, squeezing his arm harder. The shock also traversed across the skin-on-skin contact and caused him to flinch too.

"_Ow!_ Hey!" Vamping out and teeth bared, Spike growled at both his attackers. The tentacle arm released him.

The Guard shoved him forward to continue walking, and Spike stumbled and growled at any and all that dared to face him. Most in the cells turned away and quieted down. The few that continued their haranguing he filed away their faces or…features, for later. Never know when they could stab you in the back later, so it was best to watch them if they did approach.

After a few more turns down equally depressing hallways, they finally stopped him at a barred cell. It was an empty one, which Spike felt relieved about. Almost every cell had two cellmates, but not all of them. Guess they were taking his dangerous persona seriously. Spikes pride was short lived when he reminded himself – _again_ – that he is a captured prisoner.

They locked his cell door behind him and had him turn around near the bars for them to reach his specialty bracelets. They marched off after releasing him. Rubbing his wrists, Spike studied his bare cement and metal room: One bunk bed with spare sheet for each mattress, a floor toilet, and low wall sink that was dripping. No magazines, no TV, not even a random tennis ball to bounce off the walls in tedium.

Spike sighed taking off his jacket and threw it to the bottom bunk bed. "The Slayer probably has better accommodations than this."

* * *

Buffy felt herself being laid carefully on her back after being dragged down a strange metallic-scented hallway. Cold, rough hands held her in place as she felt leather straps tying across her body and limbs. She logically knew this was bad, but couldn't summon the energy to move.

"Ah. You're awake Slayer. Good. Stay with me now, I need you to drink something." Said a voice to her left. She couldn't tell if it was male or female, and had a strange tinny quality to it. She heard the person moving objects around, some glass, some plastic. A click from a lid opening, then liquid pouring. Her vision was blurred from watery eyes. She blinked to clear them. Still fuzzy, but now she could make out her surroundings a bit better.

The…armored person was pouring a liquid from an unreadable container into a smaller cup. _Armor? Where was she?_

Unable to lift her head, she turned it to look around and blinked some more to clear her vision. Her surroundings looked like a somewhat clean efficiency hospital room with everything white and tiled. It also looked old, and the equipment in view made her uneasy. Though, hospitals in general made her uneasy. She tried testing her leather bindings, but to no avail. It didn't help that she had been in two fights, had recently lost blood, and then been knocked out by electrocution. She also hadn't had a meal since lunch or had proper rest.

Also, after checking all her vitals and memory, she realized suddenly she really, _really_ had to use the bathroom.

The armored person walked over to her and lifted her head with one hand while holding the cup to her lips to drink with the other. She complied, not knowing what else to do with her head still being fuzzy and slow. The drink was plain, but gritty. She swallowed as best she could without gagging.

"_What_…" She coughed to clear her throat, "what was that? Where am I?"

"The doc will be here soon to answer your questions. Rest." The person paused in the middle of turning around. Standing still with only their metal and leather suit profile silhouetted against the sputtering halogen light, he or she continued hesitantly, "Slayer…you will never leave this place. _No one_ leaves this place…" Another pause as the person shifted their balance, "…Also, a word of caution: Most trapped here want to _kill_ you. So…good luck surviving."

And the blurry armored person walked out the only door.

_Well…crap._

* * *

_T.B.C. (within a month or less, hopefully less)_

_AUTHOR NOTES:_

_This will be a long story. I have already drafted out 5 arcs with multiple chapters per arc. I already know the ending, and all the important bits in the center. I am just in the process of fleshing out the details and then editing by myself._

_Ta!_


	2. Arc 1 Chapter 2

Spike stood at the bars after throwing his jacket on the bottom bunk. Looking out, he studied the adjoining cells. Directly across the two yard wide hall, he watched the inmates going about their non-business. The majority of the inmates have gone past the threshold of boredom and were settling nicely into catatonia.

A fair-skinned, dark haired girl that looked human and no more than twelve stood leaning on the bars facing him, watching him. It was a rather intense stare from a child, and he guessed that since she looked so young that she definitely wasn't human. Also considering her roommate, she had to have strength or power of some kind.

Her roommate looked like your run-of-the-mill demon beast with some intelligence, since it was reading a newspaper. It had a purple hide, flabby pincers for hands, and a face that made a bulldog look like a perfect specimen. It was also one of those demons that didn't wear clothes. Most demons that weren't humanoid in shape didn't wear clothes, really. Spike squinted at the paper it was reading. He couldn't make out the lettering to tell him anything about the newspapers origin, which would tell him where in the hell was _this_ hellhole's location.

Looking down each way of the hall held other—

Spike stumbled forward a step when his jacket smacked against his back and draped over his head. Fumbling quickly to get it out of his view he swiftly turned and put up a guard.

…against no one.

"What…?" Still confused, he slowly came out of his stance and gathered his jacket to put back on his bed as he took a couple sniffs of the air. He walked slowly back to the bed, his sight going to all corners, even under the cot. "Alright, who's here?" He warily turned in a circle, using all his senses to suss out the…phantom.

Nothing.

Keeping a wary eye out, he laid the jacket back on the bed. Shrugging the event off as probably a quirk of the place, he turned to the sink and—

The jacket smacked into his back again.

Spinning, he snarled into game face behind him. Still nothing. No sound, scent, or visual. Not even the heebie-jeebies of a ghostly presence.

"Show yourself, you coward. Can't face me huh?" He snarled through a leer.

"I would, but that's beyond my ability at the moment." A wry voice. A male voice, with an accent identifying him as mid-western standard American.

But nothing else. Scent was something that most take for granted. It was one of the hardest things to mask. This man apparently could, and it made Spike's hackles rise in threat. Though, now that he was focusing on the intended target, he could make out a faint heartbeat. It sounded a tad muffled, which Spike couldn't make sense of how this man was doing it. The noise of the facility wasn't making it any easier.

"Who…_Where_ are you?" Spike let his tone mean business with a low growl accenting each word, and backed himself against the wall.

The voice replied from somewhere several feet in front of him, though the stone walls were making it hard to decipher accurately. "_I…am your mo-ral sub-con-scious_…" He made it sound like an 80's cheesy ghost voice. At that, Spike raised one incredulous eyebrow.

"Right. I might've believed you, if I had a soul." Spike stood back up to his full cocky height and hung his thumbs through his front belt loops.

"Well it was worth a shot. You should've seen your face earlier, you know, if you had a reflection." That last bit came out with a chuckle.

"Speak for yourself mate." Spike felt sure he knew where the man stood, and before the 'phantom' could react Spike leapt forward. With both hands he grabbed at an invisible man-sized object and slammed him against the far stone wall.

"_Hey easy!_"

"Now then." Spike pressed one arm into his throat, and the other across his abdomen. Spike felt the man grab at his arms and try pushing him off, but Spike's strength was too much. Spike brought forth his demon visage. He licked his fangs.

"_Glrk_!" The man choked out. Upon touching, Spike could feel the pulse point at the throat, confirming to him that he's a living being of some kind, and not just a phantasm with a few tricks.

And a living being has blood.

Suddenly the man stopped struggling against Spike, and it felt like he was trying to turn in his hold. It seemed like he was giving up, and Spike leaned forward to try the taste his blood. He_ was_ quite hungry.

Suddenly from the wall in front of his face, a _beam of morning sunlight_ speared right into Spike's face. With a shout of painful surprise, Spike jumped back and to the side. He slammed his shoulder into the opposite wall far across the cell. He felt his right cheek and neck sizzling where the deadly rays burned him.

"That'll teach ya, punk. _Ha!_ William the Bloody ain't so tough now."

Spike snarled, "So you know who I am." He stood up to face the invisible man. "And who the bloody hell are you? Griffin the _Invisible Man_?"

"_Ohh_, color me surprised! We have ourselves a reader of classics. I wouldn't have guessed. Now while I can relate a bit, no, I am not him. In fact, it's because of that novel I am the way I am."

"Yea, and how's that?"

"I'm actually a practitioner of magic. Enough to turn myself invisible, but not back to normal. I've been like this for…gosh, almost ten years! My my, how time flies…" The last bit ended in a murmur to himself mostly, though Spike could hear him just fine.

"If you were invisible, how did you end up here?"

"_Ohh_…" There was a hitch to his voice that sounded like he flinched at recalling the memory, "Well, like poor Griffin, I _kinda_ went a little crazy for a time. I mean, how _empowering_ do you think it is when no one can see you? Also, it's was rather frustrating at first when no one knew you were standing or sitting there. Finally got caught stealing from some casino and starting a fight with the guards as I attempted to run."

Spike let out a snort. "Wanker."

"Hey! Want another dish of sunny delight? Turning other things invisible is one of the tricks I picked up here. I can make that protective dark wall there go bye-bye and a lot bigger than a handprint size. And make dust of you, _vampire_."

Spike just stared for a moment at the area the voice was coming from. "You…can make the wall-"

"_No no no_! Not physically disappear. You think I _like_ living here? No, I can only extend my invisibility to objects I want, though there are some limits, of course."

"Hn. Well that's-"

Suddenly the bar doors from the all the cells in the hallway slid open and a buzzer vibrated through the facility.

Spike felt a hand clap him on his shoulder startling him. He attempted to shove the hand off, but it was already gone. Spike heard the man's voice coming from the entrance of the cell door.

"Well come on, roomie. That was the bell for breakfast, and it's time for you to meet everyone who wants to kill you." A slight pause before he continued with what sounded like a shrug in his tone, "Or worship you. You've made quite the name for yourself."

Spike smirked, "That was the point." He walked forward to join him, "So, what do I call you?"

"Biv."

* * *

"_Slayer!"_ A cheery sounding voice boomed with a clear warble to it, and Buffy cracked an eye to look at the speaker.

Green, gelatinous, and large. She opened both eyes as she crinkled her nose in disgust. That slime better not come near her. She looked up to its head and its….many faceted eyes.

_Ugh_, it was like an expired lime gelatin dessert had a baby with a slug the size of horse.

"Not a talker, huh? That's okay. I'll do the talking anyway. I'm sure you have many questions. Or maybe you don't. Slayers never struck me as that bright being they willingly work for that organization of Watchers. That, and they always died like mayflies.

"So!" It clapped once, she noticed that it was two of six very long spindly arms, "Let's see…You were captured along with the vampire William the Bloody. At first, my men were going to drop you off at the local hospital of Sunnydale, but _Lo and Behold_!" He extended his thin arms forward to indicate her whole self, "Turns out we captured the Slayer too!"

Buffy jumped when she felt hands on her other side wipe her arm with a cold cloth on a wound from her fight earlier. She watched him for a moment. He looked human, and her senses weren't buzzing, so there was that. He wore a white doctor's coat, though no name tag. Short blonde hair, and fairly average looking. She turned her attention back to the Jell-O monster. It…was going on and on.

She had to interrupt, "Who are you? Where am I?" Her voice was scratchy.

"Oh! My apologies, I didn't realize I was being so rude. Got ahead of myself there." He cleared his throat, though Buffy had a feeling it was for show instead of a needed thing, "I am _Mah Zinn_. Curator of this fine establishment called _Mosaic:_ _Where mutant enemies learn to be mutant friends_."

There was a moment's pause as he let her take it in.

"…Are you serious?"

For a moment - and Buffy was assuming _male_ based on its voice – his facial expression showed surprise, "Well yes. I wouldn't lie about my facility. Too much work and money invested in it to make up such an elaborate lie." Buffy tugged at her arm straps again. "Ah-ah-ah. One other thing, Slayer. I understand you were unconscious when you were brought in. Let me make one thing clear to you."

He brought up one of his spindly arms and curled his fingers around her sore ear. "Inside here you have one of my many creations. You cannot leave this facility without my consent. Go out of range, and well, it's best to show you…"

A screeching nails-on-a-chalkboard began beating at higher and higher frequency inside her head until all that was left was the tearing pressure on the verge of exploding her ear canal. She could do nothing but scream. She couldn't even hear her scream over the vibrating sensation wiping out all her senses to where even her vision had gone triple. It was minutes later she realized she was still wheezing out half-screams that the pain had stopped for some time, but her ear was still throbbing a fast staccato along with her heart. The room continued spinning.

"There. Imagine that never ending. Only growing stronger until _'Boom!'_ your head goes. This is only if you try to escape. Now another bit a news: I, or any one of my faculty can activate these on the premises too. Should you step out of line, one push of a button, and the screeching starts."

Buffy didn't want to show tears, but the pain caused involuntary streaks run from the corners of her eyes that slid back to her hairline. She really had nothing to say. She was a prisoner for the foreseeable future, and no one knew she was there. _Wait!_ Maybe Willow and Giles would eventually fire up a tracking spell, and once they got her location, she was out of there.

She only had to wait...

Just then, two guards dragged a food-splattered Spike in and stopped behind _His Imperial Gutter Snot._

Spike saw her with an expression that crossed his face resembling surprise, but brought his attention back to Mah Zinn and scowled. There was a burn mark on his right cheek buried under all the random bits of food.

"So you must be the miserable sod that runs this joke of an asylum."

Mah Zinn's many eyes narrowed, "It's a _rehabilitation facility_, not an asylum." Mah Zinn slimed around to face Spike fully. "Take off your coat and shirt."

Spike snapped his head back in surprise, "Whoa there Slimer. I like to wait until we've at least had dinner and a movie first. Coming on kinda strong-"

Spike screamed in sudden acute pain. A second later it stopped, and he staggered without falling. "wha…_What the fuck?_" He began to growl when he let out another piercing scream, this time holding his head right over the same ear Buffy had her implant.

The strangest thing she noticed was that while Spike was getting an object lesson in obedience, she could feel a faint thrumming in her ear too. Yet the screeching wasn't giving her pain. It clicked that Mah Zinn could direct the shock treatments to whomever he wanted. It was only the close distance that was probably picking up the trigger of whatever Mah Zinn was throwing at Spike's ear-bug.

Spike was panting as he struggled to stand.

"I won't ask again _William_." Mah Zinn's earlier joviality was gone.

With staggered movements, he managed to drop his jacket and shirt against the wall.

"Now lean back against this," He indicated with a spindly arm an upright platform in the shape of a cross the size of a man. It had straps for tying outstretched arms and binding legs down. Spike looked at it then back at Mah Zinn, clearly debating about following the command, because he knew what it was going to be used for.

"_Now_ William." A hint of anger crept into Mah Zinn's tone.

Spike leaned against his future torture device with great reluctance. The guards began strapping him against it. Mah Zinn picked up a large scalpel and rolled it between his finger and thumb as he waited for the guards to finish. Once they were done, he slithered right up to Spike's face, mere inches away.

"I bet you're wondering why you're here."

"Not really."

There was a pause of consternation at being interrupted, and before Mah Zinn continued, he sliced three times in random places quickly. They were shallow cuts, and beads of blood began forming and running down slowly. Spike kept himself from giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Part of Buffy, a very _very_ dark part of Buffy, felt satisfied that Spike was finally getting some form of punishment. He was never a ray sunshine or anything pleasant in their shared past, so she held little regard for him. But a larger part of Buffy, the human part, felt sickened and sympathetic for anyone receiving the torture that Mah Zinn was inflicting. Punishment is one thing, but torture is something no one _deserves_.

For almost an hour, Mah Zinn alternated between quick slices and slow meandering ones. All the while he was going on and on about the technique, it origins, those who administered it, the famous ones who died from it, and sometimes he would demand Spike to beg for it to stop. Spike never gave in, never cried out, though his pinching face showed it was wearing on his endurance. She couldn't understand how the two guards standing by, waiting for a directive from Mah Zinn, would do nothing to stop this. The blonde male doctor from earlier had walked off after only five minutes and hadn't returned.

Buffy wasn't receiving any attention, but still felt twinges of sympathetic pain by being forced to watch. And after the length of time he was taking, Buffy was on the verge of throwing up. The cuts weren't flowing in rivers of blood individually, but the amount, countless now, accumulated down Spike's body that it was dripping from the bottom hem of his pants over his shoes and was making a mess all around him on the white tiled floor. Cuts he made in the beginning had already healed over, but the more blood loss meant slower healing, which showed in his most recent cuts as they stayed open and leaking.

A couple of times Spike would insult Mah Zinn with more and more colorful descriptions that only earned him a beating from the guards before Mah Zinn held up a hand to stop, then he would continue administering the shallow cuts at a random pace. It kept Spike from expecting and bracing himself against the cuts.

Spike groaned after an especially hard punch from a guard. Suddenly he started chortling. Mah Zinn paused watching Spike let it out.

Spike took a breath after his laughing died down to intermittent giggles, "You think this…is gonna to hurt _me_? Break me? Apparently…you haven't met _Angelus_. Maybe you've heard of him." Spike spat blood twice, once at the guard who punched him and once at Mah Zinn.

Mah Zinn's tone was flat, "I've broken vampires with more mouth than you. We've only just begun." Mah Zinn lifted Spikes chin to make sure he was looking into his eyes, "You're here for punishment because you've been seen thieving from our shipments of blood that are meant for our vampires receiving treatment. We'll keep at this until you feel properly chastised for stealing."

"What? No!" Spike scoffed, "I was in Sunnydale for a while now, havin' a bit o' fun on the Hellmouth. I haven't stolin' any packaged blood in a while."

Mah Zinn _tsk_ed, "William, William, William…It took us some time to track you from where you stole the shipments in Las Vegas, but we did. Not only are you being punished for stealing _my_ supplies, you are also being punished…well, for a lot of things. Though, I do have to thank you for one thing."

"Yeah, an' what's that?"

Mah Zinn turned slightly and indicated Buffy, "For helping us capture the Slayer." Buffy stiffened, but Mah Zinn continued, "At first when I learned she was taken in too, I thought maybe I should kill her." He chuckled, "Didn't want any Slayer or her Council sticking their nose's where they don't belong…Then I had a crazy thought!"

"Just one?" Spike muttered.

Mah Zinn ignored him, "I figured that, as the saying goes: 'One girl in all the world, she will stand against the darkness', blah blah, yadda yadda…but what really stopped me was that 'when ones dies, another is chosen'. Why let the Slayer go free, the Slayer _lineage_ I mean, go free?" Buffy's expression had gone from shocked to slowly dawning horror at realizing his plans. Mah Zinn stared at her with his many faceted eyes, every one creased in amusement as he continued, "rest assured, girl. You will be the longest lived Slayer. _Ever_."

Buffy's voice shook in suppressed fury born from fear, "My Watcher…My friends will find me. And when they do-"

He barked out a laugh. "You think I would attempt to keep you if I thought your _cavalry_ would arrive? I _hate_ the Council of Watchers. But that doesn't mean I'm willing to go up against them and their magi's." He made an all-encompassing wave at the walls, "This placed is shielded from scrying. Tracking spells go nowhere. Psychics are left confused. And escaping isn't an option either. As I made aware to you earlier about my precious children I have implanted in all the patients here." He made a conciliatory pat on her shoulder, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Vampire that isn't done with his punishment yet."

Spike sucked in a breath and pinched his lips, but said nothing. Buffy just stared at Mah Zinn as he turned to face him.

She had hoped that she merely needed to hold out for her friends to call up a tracking spell and come fight to get her out. Or call up the Council…but that wasn't going to happen. She was on her own. She was a prisoner in a hellhole in gods-know-where. She had no resources here. No friends.

Mah Zinn ordered the two guards to begin tasing Spike with their attached cattle-prod arm pieces. If their fists didn't do the job, their backup tasers followed through.

And if this was a facility for creatures too terrible to make it out in the real world, or those that got caught crossing the wrong powerful being…then she was surrounded by enemies.

Buffy felt cut off. Alone. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got caught too. Something deep inside her, which somehow felt like a far away storm, began to stir within her…

The two guards had laid into Spike several times. He was a patchwork of swelling bruises and welts on top of all the hardly-healing cuts crisscrossing his torso. His head hung too tired to keep up the pretense of being tough. Though he was still conscious.

Buffy watched. She wasn't the smartest girl. She was only the strongest. She was thinking furiously for something…

Mah Zinn began cutting into Spike again. Picking up his earlier conversation about Spike's past crimes, but Buffy wasn't listening anymore.

She _is_ the strongest fighter.

She was built to kill these creatures on a nightly basis.

But she couldn't do anything tied to a stretcher for the rest of her _long_ life.

"Hey!"

Mah Zinn stopped his guards from their return to pummeling Spikes ribs. Judging by his lack of response for the past ten or so minutes, his breathing must be painful. Quite possibly from several, if not all, broken ribs. He had stopped trying to suck the blood back in from running out his mouth. Mah Zinn only turned halfway to look at her sideways, he waited for her to speak.

"I have a…an idea. For you." She licked her lips as her mouth ran dry.

"Go on."

"You have me. Trapped here…forever. But you don't _want_ me strapped down for the rest of my life."

"No, I'm pretty sure I do."

"You have all these…patients. Possibly several bad ones." He didn't interrupt. Too curious to see where she was going with this. "What if…you employed me to...take care of them? As the Slayer is meant to do…" Her stomach quivered, thinking of what she was doing: Willing to work for a monster.

There was a pause of surprise in his breath, "You…want to act as my…_executioner?_"

"No!" She will _not_ be an executioner to every single being trapped here. She will be _The Slayer_. Even if she was going to be stuck, she at least needs to continue doing her duty. Right?

She continued to elaborate, "Not an executioner. The Slayer." She saw just barely around Mah Zinn that Spike was looking at her through swollen purple eyes. "You set me up against your trouble cases. Those who have caused harm and refuse to try and be good…and I'll take care of them." She continued staring at Spike and saw him swallow at that.

"And what? You expect me to let you walk about _freely_?" He let out a huff and a soft chuckle. "Nice thought, but…" He paused as though another thought struck him. "Noo…that may work, but with a little more…_show_ to it."

Both Spike and Buffy looked at him in wary confusion. Mah Zinn's pacing was more like slithering back and forth around his trailing slug-like tail. He left a track of slime behind. He muttered too incomprehensible even for Spike to hear as he mulled over the idea more.

Mah Zinn stopped slithering and faced the Slayer, "Yes. That'll do. Instead of just killing them, I'll put on a gladiatorial show for the assembled building. A fight between the Slayer and a chosen fighter. Depending on how these fights turn out, there could be multiple a day or week. It works out well because I have been running at max capacity for _years_. They usually kill themselves off for me, but that always causes so much property damage, and that gets expensive! But if you set an example that bad behavior…well you know." He shrugged with a small grin. He looked at her, waiting for a response.

Buffy had none.

He waved it off, "Well it won't happen immediately. Got things to get in order for it first." He turned his back on them all and headed towards the door. "Guards. Get William back in his cell. And get the Head Mistress to work out a place to put The Slayer up for the time being. I'll be in my office."

Buffy and Spike stared at the swinging doors as they shut, then at each other. The guards began unstrapping a weakened Spike.

Buffy's eyebrows drew down in anger. "_You_. This is your fault."

Spike sputtered. "_My fault?_ You're the one with the big idea 'bout killing us all!"

"I'm not going to kill them all. Just _you_. Slowly. And with _great satisfaction_."

His gaping mouth resembled a fish for a moment before he pursed his lips in anger, "Well now you've done it Slayer. Congrats. You're the resident executioner."

"_I am not-"_

"You are! Out there, or in here, you're an _executioner_. That's what Slayer's are! Judge, Jury, and Executioner of demon kind." He paused in a wince at breathing so much, but continued in a subdued voice, "Only difference now is that you're no longer making the calls. You're at the whim of that…_monster_."

"You're a monster too. As are the rest of the beings here apparently."

Spike pressed his lips as a strange expression crossed his face. It looked…sad. Or like pity.

His voice was a quiet rumble as the guards snapped the arm cuffs behind his back, "There are different kinds of monsters in the world Slayer. Different levels of evil. And now you've _given_ yourself over to one." He tilted his head to the side as he gave her a small smirk. "Like I said earlier, congrats. Hope you survive comin' out the other side." The guards escorted him out and left her alone in the formerly white-tiled, now blood-splattered, hospital room.

A chill skittered down Buffy's spine.


End file.
